


Eighty-Percent Coffee Bean

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Jared, Coffee, M/M, Rich Jensen, hidden identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8691685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: Jared always shared his latte of the month with Jensen first.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, so not mine. The people mentioned in here? I wish them all the best in their personal and professional lives, but this is so far from real it is living on its own special planet.  
> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: This is my third fill for my 2013 Coffee Day meme. It also fills my ‘mistletoe kiss’ square on my Trope Bingo Card.
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own.

“Easter Egg Delight!” Jared announced with a flourish. The foam on top of the cappuccino was rainbow of soft pastel colors. The last time that Jensen drank anything close to that was at his niece’s tea party. He was sitting next to a stuffed bear and an alligator with a briefcase and a tie that had been named after him.

“Looks great,” he lied as he took a sip of the sugary concoction.

“I mixed caramel and vanilla with a hint of coconut,” Jared explained.

Jensen just nodded and left his usual tip in the cup and popped his to-go lid over his drink. “Tastes great,” he lied. Jared’s beaming grin made the taste on his tongue a thousand times better – at least until his next sip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m calling it ‘Mayday’ because May Day is only like, one day and I can’t run a drink special like that all month, you know?” Jared said as he pushed May’s drink of the month across the counter to Jensen instead of his normal Americano with two chocolate covered espresso beans.

“What’s in it?” Jensen asked as he took a sip.

“Butter Rum and Banana,” Jared answered.

“It’s actually kind of good,” Jensen said with a smile.

“That means you thought it was going to be revolting,” Jared said.

Jensen shrugged. “Banana anything makes me hesitate.”

“I’ll tell the next guy to hit on you to not refer to his dick as such then,” Jared said, his words a bit more inquisitive than normal.

Jensen shook his head. “Any man that refers to his cock as a fruit or vegetable shouldn’t be trying to get a date with anybody.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mint and almond,” Jared said without preamble as he slid the cup across the counter.

Jensen gamely took a sip.

“Well?” Jared prompted.

“Tastes like my shampoo,” Jensen answered honestly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I call it the ultimate vanilla. I’ve combined the world’s most popular vanillas and dusted the top of it with crushed vanilla beans,” Jared said proudly.

“Tastes good,” Jensen said.

“Just good?”

“It’s vanilla,” Jensen stated.

“I know that,” Jared said with a huff.

“I like vanilla?” Jensen tried.

“You would,” Jared said as he turned and stalked away.

Jensen didn’t know what he’d done, but he left a bigger than normal tip in the cup.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I call it, ‘My rent is too high. It’s hot, and I want to die.’”

“Might want to work on the title,” Jensen observed.

“Yeah, well, not going to help much,” Jared grumbled. “People love their coffee, but August is a killer month man. And the landlord is raising the rent on me. I’ve been here for how long now?”

“Sixteen months,” Jensen answered with a smile. “You saved my life.”

“Only because you’re an addict,” Jared said dismissively. “I’m a good renter. I run a wholesome business, and I get to suffer because the other people in the complex screwed around and damaged the property. So now I get to fund their renovations. I can’t move somewhere else. You can’t keep moving a business around and expect to grow a customer base!”

“Yeah, profit margins aren’t the great for independently owed coffee shops,” Jensen mumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Jared snorted. “I’m such a failure.”

“Hey, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Jensen assured him.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Maple delight,” Jared announced. He’d drawn leaves all around Jensen’s name on the paper cup.

“New landlord treating you well?” Jensen guessed.

“He’s awesome. Man, you have no idea how scared I was about some new whiz kid coming in, but Osric is the coolest. I don’t know why they got rid of Jeff, but I’ve never been so thrilled at another person’s demise.”

“It was the coffee gods answering my prayers,” Jensen deadpanned as he took a swig of Jared’s latest brew.

“Yeah?”

“Of course. What would I do without my Jared fix?”

Jared’s dimples came out in full force.

“Nobody makes coffee like you,” Jensen continued, saluting his barista with his cup.

Jared’s smile dropped a few wattage points, and Jensen realized a line was forming behind him. “Later,” he said again as he hurried out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Honeyed apple,” Jared declared.

“Apple?” Jensen asked, not masking the disappointment in his voice.

“It’s harvest time,” Jared explained.

“But… everybody else is doing pumpkin spice. October is the official start of the pumpkin spice season. I mean some start in September now, but October and November are the big pumpkin months.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “Everybody does pumpkin spice.”

“I like pumpkin spice,” Jensen pouted.

“I did it last year,” Jared defended himself.

“And it was tasty,” Jensen whined.

“You’re a spoiled brat. I spoil you,” Jared snapped.

Jensen barely heard him as he stared down at his drink and shuffled away. He was sure it tasted fine. He was just expecting something different.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Pumpkin Fucking Spice,” Jared growled as he slammed the cup down on the counter, “because the sheeple have spoken. I tried to hold out, but you all are crazed fanatics! You’ve just got to have your goddamned… Are you purring at that?”

“I want you to have my babies,” Jensen cooed to the container of sweet, holiday goodness cradled in his palms. He licked at the soft, white froth resting so temptingly at the top of his cup, enjoying the first hint of flavor as it disappeared past his lips.

“Your coffee babies?” Jared sounded a bit strangled. Jensen figured that he might be weirding out his favorite barista.

“Yes, my coffee babies,” he managed to answer. “Can I maybe get an extra? I, uh, have a long day ahead of me and…”

“Fiend,” Jared accused with a pointed finger as he moved back to his machine to make another.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s cold out,” Jensen whined as he stomped into Jared’s shop.

“There’s a blizzard out there,” Jared said from where he was sitting next to the counter doing a crossword puzzle.

Jensen turned to look out the window even though he’d just come in from the outside and knew exactly how much snow was swirling around.

“You’re here,” he pointed out.

“It’s my shop,” Jared said. “I can’t risk not being open. What are you doing out?”

“If the weather doesn’t keep me from work, then it isn’t going to keep me from my coffee,” Jensen reasoned.

“You’re the only one to feel that way. Well, you and the road crew that came through earlier,” Jared amended.

“So what’s the special?” Jensen asked as he strolled up to where Jared was.

“Mistletoe Kiss,” Jared said.

“Sounds minty.”

“Not hardly,” Jared answered.

“Well?” Jensen asked after Jared had been silent for a while.

“Well what?”

“Are you going to tell me what’s in the drink or not?”

“Mmm, you should taste it first I think,” Jared said almost nervously.

Jensen was doubly confused. Firstly, there was no cup of coffee waiting for him to taste. Secondly, Jared was never nervous. He was about to announce his confusion on the matter when Jared stood up and pulled Jensen into his arms. His lips pressed ever so briefly against Jensen’s before he was backing away.

“There was, I mean, I…” Jared stuttered, gesturing up at the ceiling where a mistletoe ornament was hanging.

“It needs more coffee flavor,” Jensen stupidly said in response.

“I’m not made of the stuff,” Jared huffed out in a laugh.

“That’s probably good, because otherwise I’d probably eat you. Not, uh, that I wouldn’t eat you. The, you know, other way,” Jensen babbled.

“I know,” Jared said.

“You know?” Jensen repeated.

“I mean, I figured out that you were, you know, not straight. And I’m not exactly ugly,” Jared explained.

“Or as humble as I thought,” Jensen added.

“You like me,” Jared said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have fired Jeff.”

Jensen scowled at that. “Osric…”

“Didn’t say a damned thing,” Jared interrupted. “One of my customers asked me if I could arrange a meeting with the, and I quote, ‘Infamous Jensen Ackles, reclusive billionaire.’ If you ask me, you’re not all that reclusive.”

“Maybe I’m just eccentric and like your coffee that much,” Jensen defended himself.

“That’s like saying I only like you for your money,” Jared said dismissively. “To tell the truth, I liked you better when I thought you were some stressed out middle manager for some soulless corporation. It made you more accessible.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, I’m middleclass. I have problems wrapping my head around the idea of not having a housing payment,” Jared said. “But I figured that if I wanted to kiss you before, that I shouldn’t be a jerk and not try to kiss you after I knew. That would be wrong.”

“Not coming on to me would be wrong?” Jensen asked.

“Well, yeah. I mean, you can’t help it that your rich. I mean, I guess you could, but I’d be lying if I said I’d give away all my money if I were filthy rich, and it isn’t like you’re some skeeze or anything. I mean, I maybe Google stalked you a little, and you don’t have like a history of arrest or bad press or…”

Jensen went around the counter mid-ramble and started firing up the espresso maker.

“What are you doing?” Jared asked.

“My barista doesn’t seem to want to make me my morning coffee,” Jensen said.

“You know how to work that?”

“Jared, the bar in my game room has a more expensive machine than this, let alone my kitchen and my coffee parlor.”

“Why come here then?”

“Because I like the owner,” Jensen admitted. “He lets me taste his specials, and he has pretty dimples. And he doesn’t treat me like I’m made of money or glass.”

“Why would I? You’re obviously not made of either,” Jared said softly.

“No?” Jensen asked, unable to keep a pleased smile from his face.

“No,” Jared responded, dimples coming out, “you’re at least eighty-percent coffee bean.”


End file.
